Pages

Monday, December 24, 2012

The kids are tucked in safe and snug. The wrapping is done; cookies and milk for Santa await; and my heart is bursting.

Our favorite movies were watched today; Elf, National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, and It's a Wonderful Life made the cut today. I finished the wrapping with tears streaming down my face; George Bailey does it to me every time.

My own Christmas list consists of things you can't buy in a store or wrap in a box. I already have everything I need, and my blessings are too many to count.

I wish for my kids to stay little just a while longer; to believe in the magic of Christmas just one more year but not forget the real reason we celebrate. I wish for more time; and peace on Earth; and health and happiness and peace within. My heart is still aching for all the little lives lost; and I remember to squeeze my babies while they're still here to be squeezed.

I'm trying to soak every last little thing in; from the music to the cookies to days of off school. Old traditions mixed with new traditions; things we'll remember year after year.

I'm enjoying this season; this merry and bright and joy and love filled season.

Monday, December 17, 2012

My 6 year old kindergartener, skipping down the hall with your SpongeBob backpack as big as you are; your penguin hat in one hand, lunch box in the other.

My 7 year old sweet girl, taking off your hat as soon as you got in the door, smoothing your hair, and looking for your friends.

My 9 year old, knowing only in simple terms what happened, because I'm sure you will hear all about it in school today. If I could have escaped telling you, I would have. The knowing whisper between us don't tell your brother and sister, and I know you won't.

My 2 year old, waving good-bye to her older siblings, only thinking ahead as far as snack time and Barney and lunch.

I wish I could keep you all blissfully unaware, in your happy little bubbles of talking of Christmas presents and Christmas programs and movie nights and basketball and snow and sledding and cookies.

Every time I look at you; I can't help but think of the little lives lost, and the families who have to live without them, and I weep. I weep for the mamas and the papas whose children were stolen from them.

Someday I'll tell you how the world stopped as the news traveled; some day you will understand the heartbreak only a parent can feel; some day I will tell you exactly where I was on December 14th when I found out; and how I wept; and then I prayed; and I lit candles for the littles and prayed some more.

Someday you will find out about the big, scary, mean world. But for now; I don't want my fears to be your fears. I want you to think nothing of big and scary and mean; for all you know is hope and happy and bright and cheery and love...big love; just as it should be.

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Words that flow together just so; some nice photos to match the words; those photos capture the best times; the words are edited and erased and written again.

The real me has no edit button; no backspace; no do-overs.

The real me is pretty awkward and very clumsy. I embarrass easily and try not to show it, but my flaming red cheeks are a dead giveaway.

Sometimes, I trip over my words, and they come out too fast, and then my cheeks get red again.

The real me feels ugly; both inside and out.

The real me feels like I can never be thin enough, even though the number on the scale never changes. Sometimes I put on my "fat" jeans so I can make sure they still fall off of me even though my "skinny" clothes feel like they're suffocating me.

The real me is pretty weird. Sometimes, I can't believe I landed a husband. I'm sure I'm going to be one of those moms that will embarrass her kids.

The real me feels very inadequate a lot of the time; not worthy to be their mother or his wife. A lot of the time I feel like a huge, embarrassing failure...oh, it's just Jen, oh, that's something Jen would do, oh, good try Jen...even my name irritates me.

The real me is very shy until you get to know me.

The real me feels like I have a note on my forehead telling me some improvement is always required, both inside and out.

The real me has no clue what I'm doing a lot of the time...fake it til you make it is my motto.

The real me wishes I could do something extraordinary with my life; but the other real me bursts my bubble with a pin-prick of logic and brings me back to reality with a thud.

The real me is a big dork, who gets excited about Thursday night T.V., and Friday night pizza nights, and a new scent of shampoo or a new nail polish color.

Sunday, November 25, 2012

That's what another runner told me on Thanksgiving morning; while we were basking in the warm sun and rolling up our shirt sleeves because we were too hot. I passed him as he was finishing and I was just starting, and we said good morning and he said enjoy.

If only he knew exactly how much I was enjoying that moment; the warm sun; the perfect run; the holiday glow in the coming days.

The number one reason I wanted an iPhone so badly was for the photos, the Instagram, the capturing the little things and enjoying the right nowness of it all.

I scroll through my camera roll (my already insanely huge camera roll) and remember each little moment; the nature walks; the sun rays; the sunsets; the clouds; the smiles; and I can almost hear the laughter coming through the pictures and right into my heart.

Friday, November 16, 2012

Yesterday was a day; one of those no-good-very-bad days I'd like to erase. I was not patient. I was tired, which is always the cause of my shortness. One child so completely needed my care and attention that the rest fell to the wayside; and I kept saying to myself I am being a really good mama, but to only one of my kids. Cue the guilt followed by sadness and it thankfully turned around by bedtime (too late, I know).

Today is another day, though; a bright sunshiny day with smiles and patience and hopefully enough hugs and kisses to make up for yesterday.